


Here There Be Snapdragons

by nerdfighterwhatevernumbers



Category: Dragons: Race to the Edge, DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Motorcycles, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-09 18:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10418883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdfighterwhatevernumbers/pseuds/nerdfighterwhatevernumbers
Summary: Fishlegs is new in town and his new friends are.... interesting.





	1. chapter 1

Snotlout was facedown on the counter almost drowning in his own drool.

His mom could force him to watch the front of the store while she was out, but she couldn’t force him to do it awake.

The bell above the door rang. The new customer didn’t wake Snotlout. Hookfang biting his hand definitely did. Snotlout jumped awake, screaming in the face of the startled customer who jumped back with his hands up as if to protect himself. 

“Hookfang!”

Hookfang boredly returned to sunbathing in his spot on the countertop.

“Sorry, are you- are you closed?” The customer was a large soft guy with light hair, a high voice and stupid clothes. Snotlout couldn’t tell if he was being judgmental about his work ethic or honestly confused- either way he’d ignore him.

“Welcome to our shop, best bouquets in town, how can I help you or whatever,” Snotlout said, wiping the spit off his chin. Despite his mother’s best efforts to teach him ‘customer service’ and ‘basic manners,’ his hatred of customer interaction knew no bounds.

The shop was already filled wall to wall with his arrangements. There were flowers, greens, succulents, and ivies everywhere, his plants should speak for themselves. If your work couldn’t impress the customer for you, what good were you?

The stranger didn’t seem to mind. His eyes darted to Hookfang. “Is that an iguana in your shop?”

“What that is is an ungrateful mongrel. Say hi, Hookfang.”

Hookfang hissed.

The customer moved a few inches forward to get a better look, mumbling to himself.

“Adolescent male... well fed... _beautiful_ coloring…”

“Uh, can I help you? He’s not for sale.”

“Oh- sorry. I was sent over to get something for the guys across the street. You have an order for their mom?”

“What guys?”

“Ruff and Tuff? They said you knew them.”

“Oh! Right.”

Snotlout got to work, picking up some wilting daisies and carnations and pulverizing them until the petals were falling off. He set them aside and picked up the bag of grass trimmings he had tucked away and started dumping them into a fish bowl.

“Why’d they send you over?” Snotlout knew all the twins’ friends already and didn’t think a stranger would listen to anything they asked. He started looking for that old branch he found in the parking lot.

The customer stared as he worked.

“It’s my first week,” he began, “They’re still putting me through the punches. Making me do grunt work.”

“First day at what?” Snotlout put the stick in the bowl and picked up a few dead bugs from the window sill, dumping them in too. 

“At their shop.”

“As a janitor, right?”

“No. I just finished my apprenticeship at my uncle’s place across state so I’m a full time artist there now and what did their mother DO to you!?” 

Snotlout spit in the bowl then passed it to his new neighbor.

“Nothing, this is how she likes it.”

The new guy made a face but took it and reluctantly handed him the twins’ card.

“ _You’re_ a tattoo artist?” he said, raising an eyebrow, “Aren’t tattoo artists supposed to be tough and intimidating? Or at least have tattoos?” This guy was big, but too soft to be scary and dressed like a nerd. He had an ill-fitting jacket, pants and shoes that reminded him of Hiccup’s middle school years, and a messenger bag with pins like ‘Don’t anger the DM’ and ‘Dragon Xing’.

“Oh, I definitely have tattoos.”

He pulled his shirt collar down just enough so that Snotlout could see ink but not enough that he could tell what it was.

“Can I ask you a question…” He squinted at Snotlout’s nametag. “...Snotlout? Is that your real name?”

“You work with guys named Ruffnut and Tuffnut,” he pointed out.

“Those aren’t nicknames?”

Snotlout smirked. “You’ll never know.”

The new guy accepted this, presumably choosing to move on with his life. He bent down by a sleeping Hookfang and took out a notepad. 

“Can I draw him?”

“Knock yourself out, buddy.”

He started sketching. He studied him as he drew. His eyes would flick back and forth between Hookfang and his sketchpad, pencil always moving, tongue sticking out when he made notes in the margin. Snotlout watched him for several minutes as he took in every detail and put it to paper. The guy occasionally mumbled to himself but was otherwise quiet, obviously deep in concentration.

The sun shining through the front windows made the freckles on his cheeks and nose stand out. His skin was so pale it didn’t look like this guy spent any time outdoors. Aside from his weight and number of limbs, he reminded him more of Hiccup than of the twins. 

The guy put his notebook away.

“Done drawing my lizard like one of your French girls?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said as he picked up his sad excuse for a floral arrangement, “I better get back. Nice to meet you. And _very_ nice to meet you,” he said to Hookfang. 

Hookfang turned on his side then went back to sleep.

Blondie was out the door.

Snotlout watched as he crossed the street, disappearing into the tattoo parlor.

He was still staring at the parlor door when his mom finally came home and let him get back to making arrangements in the privacy of the back room with the TV running. 

 

___

When Fishlegs got back to Henrik’s, the twins were messing around suspiciously in the back corner. When they heard him come in they whipped around, covering some papers on the table and going suddenly silent.

“What was that?”

“Nothing to worry about,” said Tuffnut.

“Need to know basis,” said Ruff, “You got our order?”

The twins nodded in approval as he cautiously held up the bowl.

“Perfect, put it over there.”

“I coulda sworn the guy at the florist’s was messing with me,” Fishlegs said, setting it down by the window.

Ruffnut sighed in exasperation. 

“Snotlout’s the only one who understands Thorston aesthetic sensibilities,” her brother agreed.

Fishlegs walked to his chair in the corner across from where the twins were in Tuffnut’s and put his bag down before he started tidying up. It was slow and Henrik was gone, but he didn’t want to slack off on his first week. 

...Not so much that he wouldn’t text on the job.

 **Heather** : _3:56_ How’s work today?  
**Me** : _4:13 Not busy._

He sent her a picture of the disaster from the floral shop.

 **Heather** : _4:34_ What is that??  
**Me** : _4:35_ Twins actually paid for it.  
**Heather** : _4:35_ You’re kidding  
**Me** : _4:40_ It’s for their mom. Kind of sweet but I don’t get it.  
**Heather** : _5:01_ Are we sure they’re not related to Dagur

Fishlegs laughed and buried his phone back in his pocket so he could answer the store’s old rotary phone.

He liked working here.

This place was a hipster’s dream. Exposed brick, wooden floors, framed samples of designs hanging all over the walls, and some obscure Norwegian band playing through a radio Tuffnut got at a swap meet that was so ancient it had no right to be working. It wasn’t much different than his uncle’s place, but the one thing Fishlegs really appreciated was that when he was done he could go right up stairs and turn in for the night. 

Heck, if one of the twins was willing to cover his walk-ins he could just leave no problem and still be there if he needed to come back in. Not only did the twins’ uncle own the parlor on the bottom floor of the building, he lived on the top third floor and let the twins have the whole second floor to themselves (Fishlegs was fairly sure that was more for Henrik’s own sanity than for either of his niblings). 

When Fishlegs got hired, the Thorstons offered to let him rent a room on the twins’ floor out of mutual convenience and they didn’t even care about Meatlug coming along. That was always Fishlegs’ biggest concern. 

**Heather** : _10:30_ The more I learn about the twins the more I’m scared we’re related too  
**Me** : _10:30_ Don’t worry, you look nothing alike  
**Heather** : _10:31_ Neither do me and Dagur  
**Me** : _10:31_ Well eruuvohqo2

Meatlug jumped on him the second he came through the door, licking his face like she hadn’t seen him in days.

“Hi, my beautiful girl! Daddy’s happy to see you too!” 

The chubby bulldog jumped all over him, only stopping to roll on her back for belly rubs. The twins stepped past them, used to this display after just 4 days of living together.

Fishlegs grabbed her leash and took her for a walk. The local area was… nice enough, but he wasn’t about to run around back alleys in a new town in the middle of the night so he stuck to the well lit sidewalks around the block. Poor Meatlug was always cooped up upstairs. He tried to walk her as much as possible.

They took their time sniffing around and she pulled him across the road to investigate the flower shop even though they’d taken in their plants for the night. Fishlegs casually wondered about the guy bringing his iguana to work. There was no way he could ever get away with keeping Meatlug in the shop.

He forgot about his phone until they got back.

 **Heather** : _10:41_ ??  
**Me** : _11:00_ Sorry. Meatlug jumped me.  
**Heather** : _11:01_ Are you still free Saturday?  
**Me** : _11:02_ Yeah, I’ll pick you up for lunch on my break.  
**Heather** : _11:03_ I’ll text you the address

One quick shower and microwave dinner later, Fishlegs was ready for bed. He flopped down on his bed with his sketchpad. He looked over what he’d drawn earlier that day, focusing especially on the lizard. He’d have to get another look at him. Other designs and sketches of various animals filled his book. Fishlegs was comparing the sketch of Hookfang to a dragon design he started a while ago and it gave him some ideas. He turned to a new page and started to get his ideas out while they were fresh, probably getting pencil marks all over his clean hands. He worked at it until he fell asleep still holding his book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to toalwaysbeme for dragging me onto this ship.
> 
> Shout out to my sister for coming up with the title. Someone has to sail this ship, darnit. This is my first shot at a multichapter fic, hopefully I can pull it off haha


	2. chapter 2

Henrik’s was open an hour later on Fridays, meaning Fishlegs didn’t get to walk Meatlug until after eleven. Ruffnut and Tuffnut had gone to get take out (at least he assumed so- sometimes they just left unannounced then reappeared the next morning) so Fishlegs was surprised to see someone slumped in a beanbag chair in front of the tv holding a game controller. The glow from the tv made it obvious it wasn’t a twin, but Fishlegs didn’t recognize the figure until he flicked on the lights.

It was Snotlout- the guy from the flower shop.

“Hey! Do you mind? You’re breaking my concentration!”

Snotlout continued to furiously press buttons and stare at the screen.

“Do you always sneak into people’s houses and sit alone in the dark?”

“Not always at the same time.”

He yelled as something exploded on screen and moved his arms around with the controller as if that would help his gameplay.

“Tuff was supposed to show me his new first person shooter- not my fault he’s not here.”

Fishlegs stared at him, unsure. Snotlout didn’t appear to look away from the screen but must have noticed, given the way he rolled his eyes.

“Ugh,it’s _fine_. I do it all the time, they don’t care. Don’t get your panties in a twist”

It took less than a second’s consideration before he decided he was telling the truth.

Below him, Meatlug fidgeted and whined. Fishlegs apologized to his sweet princess for not letting her off her leash yet. The instant it was unhooked she raced toward the new person, knocking him over as she sniffed at him and slobbered him with kisses. Snotlout’s yelling drowned out the sound of his character dying in the game as the controller dropped from his hands.

“Get this stupid- OW!- off me!”

“Meatlug! Down!” Fishlegs called. She quickly crawled off of Snotlout but continued to sniff around him. 

Snotlout fixed himself in his seat and kicked the now slobbery game controller over to the other beanbag.

“That’s yours now, I am not touching that,” he said, leaning forward for the other cleaner controller.

Fishlegs took that as an invitation and sat down beside him, wiping Meatlug’s spit off against the back of the seat.

They started a new level with Fishlegs playing as Snotlout’s old character and Snotlout making a different one that conveniently still had all its lives. Meatlug parked herself happily between them. 

They played for a while, not talking except for the occasional “SUCK IT” or “COME ON” or “I WILL BREAK INTO YOUR HOME AND PEE ON EVERYTHING YOU LOVE” and other usual trash talk.

Every time Snotlout was losing he insisted there was a problem with the controller, or a glitch in the game, and Fishlegs sat back in satisfaction as he watched himself beat the snot out of Snotlout. When Snotlout lost all his lives for real he got up and went to the fridge then pulled out a clear unlabeled jug and raised it so Fishlegs could see.

“What flavor is this?”

“Not sure.”

“What color is it?”

“Uh, red?” Fishlegs raised an eyebrow. Snotlout uncapped the jug and drank all of it in one go.

The twins came in while he was wiping his mouth. Snotlout was reaching for the pizza box they’d brought before he even finished throwing the empty in the sink (well, at the sink. He ignored it when it hit the tile counter and rolled on its side instead).

Fishlegs was up right after him, fighting for what the twins had left them. 

Nothing could brighten Fishlegs’s day like the beautiful smell that wafted through their apartment.

There was exactly ONE pizza place in town open late enough for them to get food after work. It also happened to have the best pineapple and ham pizza Fishlegs had ever had. Even half eaten and lukewarm it was delicious enough to singlehandedly justify moving to Berk.

Snotlout picked up a slice and held it away from him like it was covered in mold.

“You know if you order it they’ll bring it to your house _while it’s still hot? _”__

__The twins laughed._ _“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tuffnut said, “Everyone stopped delivering to us months ago.”_ _

__“Barf and Belch need to be free- the Luigi’s guy was overreacting,” Ruffnut said._ _

__“What about the Panda Wok guy?”_ _

__“A little homemade flamethrower never hurt anyone.”_ _

__“I’m start to regret living with you two,” Fishlegs said, already on his second slice._ _

__“Don’t worry,” Tuffnut placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “The flamethrower was a one time thing for settling a roommate battle. Now we have a tie-breaker!” He gave Fishlegs a firm ‘friendly’ slap on the back that almost made him choke on his pizza._ _

__When Fishleg’s finished coughing and swallowed his slice, he caught sight of Snotlout._ _

__“What are you DOING!?”_ _

__“Trying to eat pizza,” he said, daring to sound annoyed in the face of the absolute atrocity he was committing. “This is what people _do _when their pizza is _cold _.”_____ _

______In the MICROWAVE!? No no, you eat it cold, or you heat it in the oven, any other way is sacrilege.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“It’s not even really cold, it’s lukewarm! Eating it lukewarm is worse than eating it microwaved!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“So you admit the microwave is bad?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Not as bad as lukewarm! The oven would take too long anyway, these knuckleheads took forever getting here.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hey!” said Ruffnut._ _ _ _ _ _

______“We resent that” said Tuffnut._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Next time buy your own pizza.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The twins stomped off to their room, presumably to feed their snakes before passing out._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I did, you keep borrowing my money!” Snotlout called after them. Before Fishlegs could stop him again he hit start on the microwave._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Absolutely disrespectful…” Fishlegs scoffed._ _ _ _ _ _

______“It’s pineapple and ham, it’s not like I’m ruining something good like meat lovers.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Fishlegs gasped. “You take that back.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“What about- You’re not even eating the crust!” he pointed an accusatory finger at Fishlegs’s hand holding his crust out to Meatlug. “What kind of coward are you!?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“The kind with a dog who loves pizza the _right _way.”___ _ _ _ _ _

________“A self-admitted coward,” Snotlout shook his head, going back to the game, “I can’t believe they let you in here.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“They let you in here,” Fishlegs said, joining him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“No no, I let them have me as an honored guest.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Should you really start another game?” They both sat with their controllers in their hands, not starting. Ruffnut and Tuffnut snored in the next room. “You gotta go home some time.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Snotlout paused. He gave a hard look out the window towards his own house._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Nah, I’m crashing here. Tuff still owes me a game.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The twins continued snoring. Fishlegs shrugged anyway. They started their new round and before the night was done Snotlout actually managed to win._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is welcome but be nice


	3. chapter 3

Snotlout felt something cold on his arm. This didn’t wake him up until his brain registered that it was cold and also _moving._

He threw his arms up and yelped in a way that was very manly and dignified and saw either Barf or Belch fall onto the floor.

“Ruffnut! Your stupid snake woke me up!”

Ruffnut came around the corner with her green snake around her shoulders.

“Uh, no he didn’t,” she said with disdain, “That’s obviously Belch.”

“Whatever,” Snotlout groaned and rolled over on the tiny couch. Each cushion stain had its own mystery smell he was too grossed out to think about, but it was bigger and softer than the beanbags.

“Come here Belchy,” Tuffnut said, “You need all the exercise you can get.”

“Exercise him when I’m gone,” Snotlout grumbled into the cushions.

“Nope,” Tuffnut said, “They only get out of their cages when Meatlug goes for walks now.”

“I’d complain, but you gotta appreciate an animal who eats her own barf,” Ruffnut added.

He tried to ignore them and sleep but they kept bumping around, moving stuff in the kitchen, and talking without even trying to be quiet. The clock said it was 11:00. He had weekends off and his dad would be out of the house by now. He weighed his options and decided moving was worth getting a nap at home.

“I’m coming back later, I need a ride to Gobber’s,” he said as he put his shoes on.

He passed Fishlegs and Meatlug on his way down the stairs.

Fishlegs was wearing a sleeveless shirt and it was the first time Snotlout actually got a look at part of his tattoos. He had a series of Celtic knots across his upper arms and shoulders that continued under his shirt. There were snakes curled around the knots along with some symbols that looked vaguely familiar but Snotlout didn’t know the meaning of.

Fishlegs greeted him, but Snotlout didn’t really respond. 

As expected, no one was home and Snotlout had the place to himself. He fed Hookfang, took a bite of the day old roast beef sandwich by his bed, then went back to sleep. He had been up ‘til 3 then fell asleep fully clothed on the twins’ old loveseat. He was exhausted. The fact that his dad had kept going on about work earlier last night _really_ did not help.

After a few more hours of sleep, he took a shower, finished his bedside sandwich, downed half a bag of Doritos for good measure, grabbed his helmet, and walked over to Henrik’s. 

Henrik was writing something down, Fishlegs was talking on the phone, and the twins were busy with customers. He walked over to where Ruff and Tuff were torturing some idiot couple with the bright idea to get matching dolphin tattoos.

“You guys gonna be done soon?”

“Why?” Tuffnut said, filling in the face on the dolphin so it looked like he was stabbing the thing in the eye with his needle.

“I need a ride to Gobber’s?”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Tuffnut said.

“Wha-I mentioned it this morning!”

“And you didn’t even stop to check if we were listening,” Ruffnut said, “Typical Snotlout.”

“Honestly, this is on you,” Tuffnut said.

“I texted you yesterday.”

“Our bike’s out of commission anyway,” Tuffnut ignored him, “Take the bus.”

“Uggggh,” Snotlout groaned.

“Henrik, I’m going on lunch,” Fishlegs called as he hung up the wall phone.

“Fishlegs!” Snotlout said cheerfully, following him to the back corner, “You wouldn’t happen to be willing to give a pal a ride, would you?”

“I’m kind of meeting a friend.”

“Perfect, you can give me a lift on the way. Listen: You’re new, and I know every inch of this town. No matter where you’re going, with me as your guide I guarantee you’ll make it there three times faster.”

Ruffnut snorted.

“Ignore her,” Snotlout put his arm around Fishlegs, guiding him out the back door to the small cracked parking lot.

“Jorgenson’s are known for our sense of direction- Just tell me where you need to get, Snotlout’ll take you there.”

“Fine,” Fishlegs sighed and pulled away from him. He moved back to the building and made his way up the creaky steps. “I have to grab my stuff first.”

He was gone and back in under a minute, carrying a motorcycle helmet under his arm, wearing a brown leather jacket and strapping on a pair of goggles.

“Where did you need to go again?” he said, pulling his gloves on.

“Gobber’s Garage- 433 East Ave. Just turn left when you pull out here and-”

“Wait-” Fishlegs pulled out his phone and checked something.

“Are you googling directions? I told you, I can do it.”

“First of all, I can’t turn left on that street, it’s a one way.”

“That’s why I said turn right. Obviously.”

“Second, I think we’re going to the same place.”

Fishlegs mounted his bike. 

“I told you it’d be easy,” Snotlout said, pulling his own gloves out of his pocket, “You sure I can’t ride up front? How long have you been riding?”

“Three years, and as sure as you’re going to want to get on before I pull out. Don’t worry, I’ve had passengers before,” Fishlegs reassured him.“Just remember not to lean too much either way and-” 

“Yeah I’m not new either, I’ll be fine.”

Not being able to drive always made Snotlout uneasy. He’d put up with it before, not at all happily.  He put on his helmet with the visor down and climbed on behind Fishlegs. The bike had enough room for both of them to fit, but not as much as Snotlout would have liked. There wasn’t a grab rail, so he held onto Fishlegs’s hips as well as he could.

“How far is the drive usually?” Fishlegs asked.

“Fifteen minutes, if you’re fast.”

The sooner he got his bike back, the better.

“Okay. Tap my shoulder twice if we need to slow down, three if we need to stop.”

“Got it, we’ll be fine, I don’t want to spend all day on your back, so can we-”

The engine revved to life and the bike hummed beneath them.

Fishlegs circled around the lot then pulled carefully onto the street. It took a bit to adjust, but the ride wasn’t too bumpy. Slower than Snoutlout usually liked. It was probably for the best. Every time they turned a corner or came to a stop light, Snotlout braced himself against the footrests and squeezed his thighs against the bike like the speed change would make him spill off the stupid thing, and he kept clenching his jaw.

He _really_ did not like being the passenger.

Snotlout tried to ignore that he kept tightening his grip on Fishlegs. By his very sound logic, if he didn’t think about it, Fishlegs wouldn’t notice.

It could not have been more of a relief when they got to the garage.

They parked at the side, under the hand-painted “GOBBER’S” on the white cinder block wall of the building. There weren’t many other vehicles in the lot, but Snotlout recognized them all. Snotlout got off the bike first and started leading Fishlegs to the front entrance.

A burly, bearded figure rounded the corner. “Hey, Chief,” Snotlout greeted, giving a two finger salute.

He returned the greeting with a grunt and a nod, walking past them without stopping.

“Stoick seemed tense,” came a familiar voice from inside, “He should try some meditation techniques.”

It was followed by a sarcastic sounding mumble Snotlout couldn’t make out but knew had to be Hiccup.

They turned into the doorway to see the scrawny one legged mechanic grumbling into an engine, Dagur standing near him wearing a beaten up leather vest over a “Dog’s Should Vote” t-shirt he’d probably torn the sleeves off of with his teeth, and sitting on a workbench was his always lovely little sister-

“Heather!”

Fishlegs pushed past Snotlout and ran toward Heather without so much as an ‘excuse me’.

She immediately jumped off the bench and ran to hug him, almost knocking him over despite his size.

“Wait, your friend is Heather?” He looked to Hiccup for help when the two ignored him, “Did you know about this?”

“Kind of,” said Hiccup, wiping his hands off on a rag, “You know how much Heather likes to share.” By which he meant ‘as little as possible’.

“So,” Dagur said, crossing his muscular arms, “This is the ex-boyfriend.”

 

Those words hit Snotlout over the head like a hammer.

His mouth hung open and he stared while Heather warned Dagur to behave. He couldn’t have been more dumbstruck if Dagur had said Fishlegs was an actual walking fish.

“Woah woah woah woah- THIS-” he pointed to Fishlegs, “Is your ex-boyfriend.”

Heather and Fishlegs smiled at each other.

“Yeah,” said Heather, “We lived in the same town before I moved here.”

“We broke up with the move and everything, but we kept in touch. She’s…” Fishlegs said, blushing, “Kind of the reason I ended up in Berk.” 

His eyes gleamed when he looked at her. 

It was too much for Snotlout. Poor Fishlegs was being taken for a ride. Of course it didn’t hurt Snotlout’s feelings at all that Heather hadn’t mentioned him by name, she was just trying to spare Fishlegs. She didn’t have the heart to tell him- Dagur and Hiccup were useless. It was Snotlout’s job to let him down easy. 

“Man, I am so sorry about how awkward this is about to get,” he said, walking to Heather and reaching up so his arm wrapped around her shoulder, “‘Cause me and Heather, I mean, we kinda got a ‘thing’ going on here. It’s pretty serious y’know. She probably didn’t want to hurt you, but it’s better you know noOWOWOW!”

Heather grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. Hard. She did it easily, like trying to tear his arm off was a casual occurrence (which it might have been).

“Ignore him,” Heather deadpanned, not loosening her grip. 

“Wow. He’s really like this,” said Fishlegs.

“Unfortunately,” threw in Hiccup, who no one asked. He reached out an arm to Fishlegs and shook his hand. “Hi, Fishlegs, I’m Hiccup. And I’m sure you know Dagur.”

Dagur gave a small manic grin, and not one of his happy ones. It could be hard to tell with Dagur, though. Instead of shaking hands, Dagur grabbed Fishlegs’s arms, pressed him into a quick uncomfortable hug, and held him at a distance.

“Good to meet you, Fishlegs! So nice to finally meet one of Heather’s friends. Or her only friend. Strange you’re the only one she ever mentioned, isn’t it?”

Dagur’s unblinking eyes bore into Fishlegs. The tattooed claw mark across his eye and his wild, patchy beard did nothing to help the unease Dagur usually caused in others. Despite this, Fishlegs managed to look on the verge of angry rather than intimidated. Heather, who had finally released Snotlout and left him to rub his sore wrist, broke them apart.

“Dagur,” She said sharply, “What did I say?”

“I know, I know,” her brother said, backing off slightly, “I was just saying hello. Nice strong fellow, isn’t he? Got some muscle on those arms.”

Snotlout couldn’t see any muscles underneath the jacket or his doughiness, but Dagur had probably gripped his arms tightly enough to pick it up. Heck, he might have been assessing Fishlegs for a combat situation when he did that.

Some of the wildness left his eyes, but he never looked fully relaxed (If someone called Dagur the Deranged could ever relax).

“Sorry, friend. Didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Say Fishlegs,” Hiccup cut in, distracting them from the tension, “Heather was telling us you like machines?”

Fishlegs took the opening.

“A little- I mostly just do my own repairs on my bike.”

“Do you want to take a look at what I’m working on right now?”

Hiccup led him over to the engine he’d been mumbling into earlier and started pointing at different parts and talking about problems Snotlout didn’t really care about as long as it wasn’t his bike. Fishlegs seemed to know what he was talking about and they immediately started babbling to each other excitedly about whosits and whatsits in that magic way Hiccup had of turning even motorcycles into something nerdy.

Fishlegs started making suggestions on how to fix the bike, Hiccup said what he’d already tried and it went back and forth like that for a minute or so while the siblings watched and Snotlout started spacing out.

“...Well, who’s bike is it? Maybe you can ask them some more questions about it,” Fishlegs said, finally using words Snotlout understood again.

“No,” said Hiccup, “I built this one, I’d know more about it than Gothie.”

“You made this?” Fishlegs asked, amazed. He ran his hands over the bike, thoroughly impressed with Hiccup’s work.

“I put a lot of bikes together- most of the ones that come through our shop are mine,” Hiccup said proudly.

“That’s incredible!” Fishlegs beamed. Hiccup grinned back at him.

“Oh man,” Snotlout said seriously as he leaned over to Heather, “How are we gonna tell Astrid?”

“Tell her what?”

“That Fishlegs stole Hiccup.”

Heather rolled her eyes, dismissing the very real problem on their hands, and grabbed Fishlegs’s attention.

“Hey, Fishlegs, we should probably get going.”

Fishlegs finished saying something to Hiccup before going “Oh! Right,” and following her to the door.

“Nice meeting you guys!” he called as he left.

“See you later!” Hiccup called back.

“What do you think, Brother?” Dagur said once they’d left.

“He’s great,” Hiccup said, still smiling from his new friend, “Finally, someone to talk to.”

“Wow, thanks,” Snotlout said. By the look on Dagur’s face, he was thinking the same thing.

“You know what I mean,” Hiccup said, “You guys just aren’t as into the technical stuff as I am. And Gobber’s… Gobber. He’s more my dad’s friend than mine.” He got back to working on the bike, keeping his hands busy while he talked. “Was there something you needed, Snotlout?”

“My bike? You said it’d be ready today.”

Hiccup stopped what he was doing and slowly looked at Snotlout.

“Right,” he winced, “Well, funny thing is, that part I ordered still hasn’t come in.”

“Are you kidding me, Haddock!?”

“Sorry Snotlout, looks like you’ll have to wait. I could’ve sworn I texted you about it.”

“Well, you didn’t,” Snotlout pulled out his phone dramatically and started scrolling through his messages, “Look right-” he stopped when he saw a single message from Hiccup between several of Tuffnut’s from a few days ago “-Right now I’m willing to forgive you, because I am the more generous between us.”

Hiccup managed not to roll his eyes.

Muffled bickering came from outside the garage, followed by the grunts of the twins as they wrestled over a roll of paper and shoved each other in the doorway. Tuffnut won the paper, but Ruffnut got through the door first.

“Hiccup!” They yelled.

“What now?” Hiccup said, having given up on his friends making sense long ago.

The twins started looking around suspiciously. They made gestures to each other then went around the room, covering windows and closing the doors like they were being watched.

“Shouldn’t you two be at work?” Hiccup asked.

“Errands for Uncle Henrik,” Ruffnut answered, “We made an executive decision about adding a few stops.”

“Our art was too important to ignore,” Tuffnut added, making one last sweep through the room.

Finally satisfied with their work they made their way to Hiccup, spreading out the paper in front of him.

“We’ve got… a plan!” Tuffnut said dramatically.

Hiccup stared blankly.

“Ruff, Tuff, what exactly am I looking at?”

“Only the most top secret innovation of our time,” Ruffnut said.

Snotlout circled around behind Hiccup so he could see what they were talking about. The sheet had a diagram of what looked like two crudely designed motorcycles, attached together with a few thin bars.  

Snotlout started laughing. “What is that thing?”

“Consider,” Tuffnut started, “Our options as a duo are limited.”

“As it is, our only choices are  to take turns driving or get a sidecar,” continued Ruffnut.

“Neither of which truly put us as equals.”

“What we have here is the perfect solution,” Ruffnut gestured to the paper while Tuffnut nodded approvingly, “Two bikes built as ONE!”

Tuffnut held up the paper with his left hand and did jazz hands with his right.

Hiccup continued to stare at them while Snotlout laughed harder.

“What’s this on the front of the bikes?” Hiccup said, pointing to strange chunky parts on the page.

“Decorative flair, obviously,” Ruffnut sniffed, “If we’re going to patent this, it’s gotta look good.”

"Aren't you guys supposed to be artists?" Snotlout got out between laughs.

"Apparently not designers though," muttered Hiccup.

“You wouldn’t be able to ride as fast like that,” threw in Dagur.

“Why don’t you guys just get two bikes that… aren’t attached?” said Hiccup.

“Then who would drive in front on the road? You’re creating more problems than you’re solving, Hiccup,” Tuffnut said.

“Guys, I really don’t have time for this. Summer classes start soon and Gobber needs me to do _actual_ work while I can.”

“Why are you wasting time on this dumb project? Your normal bike isn’t even working,” Snotlout said.

“Yeah it is,” said Ruffnut, like it was obvious.

“Wha- You said it was out of commission!” Snotlout sputtered.

“That’s code for ‘we don’t want you to use it’. My sister’s lucky I let her drive it, let alone you.”

“I hate you all,” Snotlout said to the people clearly designed to make his life difficult.

“Out. Now,” said Hiccup, pinching the bridge of his nose, “ALL of you, please.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Tuffnut said, rolling up the paper and winking at Hiccup. “Say hi to Val for us!” he added to Dagur as they left.

Dagur picked up his helmet to leave too.

“Wait, how am I supposed to get home?” Snotlout was _not_ riding the bus.

“I’ll give you a lift,” Dagur said, “Your stop is on my way.”

Hiccup gave Dagur a look Snotlout couldn’t read.

Snotlout considered it. Dagur was a terrifying driver. But the _bus_.

“Alright, let’s go,” Snotlout said, picking up his own helmet.

Hiccup went back to his tools and let them go.

“So,” Dagur started, leading them to his bike, “Fishlegs a friend of yours?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Later that night, Snotlout was surprised to find his dad had made dinner. ‘Made dinner’ really meant ‘microwaved the chicken Mom left before she went to book club,’ but the fact that he was home for dinner and fixing two plates was still noteworthy.

“Hey, Dad,” Snotlout said. He pulled himself up to the table and started stuffing his face immediately.

“Son,” his dad replied, mouth full of food.

They chewed in relative silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable- like most of Snotlout’s interactions with his father.

“Dad, get this,” he finally said, “I go to get my bike and Hiccup says he ‘doesn’t have the part’ yet, can you believe that guy?” 

“Just like a Haddock,” his dad agreed. There were a lot of touchy subjects in the Jorgenson household. However: One of their best shared past-times and one of the only subjects they could always agree on: complaining about the Haddocks. It was second only to complaining about Hoffersons. “Stoick did the same thing just last week. Said I couldn’t get the resources I needed to do MY job because I ‘didn’t have the proper request forms’. Says that every other week when he knows good and well I GET my forms in- it’s his fault he can’t keep track of anything!” 

“I know! Hiccup can build a whole bike but he can’t get a stupid part in on time?” 

Spitelout tore a chunk of meat from a leg. “Thick heads is their problem.”

“They gotta learn to listen to Jorgensons,” Snotlout said. He downed a glass of milk and wiped his mouth aggressively. It continued back and forth for a bit longer, the two of them getting along perfectly for a few good minutes. Of course, his father just had to ruin that.

“That Hiccup boy isn’t so special- You’d’ve been leagues ahead of him if you just applied yourself.”

Snotlout choked down his green beans. “Like I’d want to be valedictorian or whatever.”

“I’m not talkin’ about that, Son. There’s loads of ways. You were on the football team-”

“Yeah. And I was good.” Snotlout’s skin started to crawl.

“And you could have gone farther or gotten a scholarship. If you’d just put more into it...” It might have been his father’s thick accent or the permanent sneer that always made him sound so smug and condescending. Even when the words sounded like they should have been a compliment. That quality made venting about Hiccup and Stoick more fun for sure, but Snotlout _hated_ when it was directed at him. Everything that should have been an encouragement was just a judgment.

“I put plenty into it. I’m not like Hiccup, I didn’t want to go to college anyway,” Snotlout snuffed out the little voice that whispered _I wasn’t good enough_ the second it came to life. 

“There’s still time for it if you went now,” his father continued, forgetting the countless times Snotlout professed his hatred for formal education. Snotlout finished his food and was mentally calculating how fast he could leave the conversation. “All I’m saying is, you’re a Jorgenson. A Jorgenson-”

“Can do anything. I know, but-”

“Don’t interrupt me, boy,” his father warned, “You’re living under my roof and you will listen to me. If you really want to make something of yourself, you’ve got to push yourself! Work hard to be a real leader, a success! If you’d just join the academy at least, there’d be a start.” His father picked up his own empty dishes before Snotlout could make an excuse to leave. Snotlout got up after him, quickly dumping his dishes in the sink and speeding off to his room before his dad could pick things up again.

He made it most of the way down the hall before his dad called. “Hey!” Snotlout reluctantly turned back so he could see his father standing just outside the kitchen, but not moving toward him. Snotlout kept a hand on his doorknob and the door slightly ajar. “Think about what I said, boy,” was all his dad said before going back to the kitchen.

Snotlout escaped to his room as quickly as possible. As soon as he closed the door he grabbed the nearest pillow and started punching it, then threw it across the room, almost breaking his lamp. He kicked his nightstand, immediately regretting it when pain raged up his leg. After hopping around holding his bad leg for a few seconds, he threw himself onto his bed, grumbling to himself.

Snotlout gave up trying to be what his father wanted him to be after high school, but the world would end before his father listened. Two days. They couldn’t go two days in the same house together without his dad ruining both with all his talk about work, and what Snotlout should do with his life, and what a waste he was.

In the middle of his grumbling, Snotlout heard a small bark outside. He rolled over and listed the curtain slightly. Sure enough, right below him Fishlegs was walking his mutt right by their flower shop where they stopped to talk to their delivery boy, Gustav, who was just outside the shop on his moped. Snotlout watched them boredly like he was watching a muted TV show.

Just when Gustav started to drive off, footsteps started down the hall. When they didn’t stop at his parents’ room, Snotlout reacted quickly to avoid ‘Be a Better Son: Part 2’. By the time his dad was at the door he had his shoes on and was marching with a purpose.

“Hey Dad, promise I’ll clean my plate before Mom gets home- told my friend I’d go for a walk with him now. Always in high demand, you know how it is,” he said, pushing past his dad.

His father, thankfully, had nothing to say to that, only walking back to the living room to watch a game.

__________

The evening was beautiful. The sky had just started to turn orange and a soft breeze filled the warm spring air. Seeing Heather again after so long filled Fishlegs with a brightness he didn’t want to shake. He sighed happily as he walked down the street, Meatlug sniffing the air, deciding where to lead them. Her ears perked up and Fishlegs noticed the sound of footsteps coming toward him. They sped up from behind and didn’t slow down until-

“How’s it going lover-boy?” Snotlout said, clapping Fishlegs on the back. He was breathing like he’d run a little too hard catching up. “How was your date with Heather?” He started to walk alongside them.

“It wasn’t a date,” Fishlegs said, “and it was great. She took me to that diner by the movie theater and she told me all about her classes and we even had time for milkshakes before I had to go back to work.”

They rounded the corner, making their way around the block. Fishlegs checked his phone to make sure he was on track for his break right now. Twenty minutes left then he had to get back.

“Text from your girlfriend?”

“We’re not dating anymore,” Fishlegs insisted, a little harshly this time.

“Don’t tell me, tell Dagur," Snotlotu said, shoving his hands into his pockets, "He asked me to ‘keep an eye on you’ when he drove me home.”

“Is… that what you’re doing right now?”

“No,” Snotlout scoffed, “If you were gonna do something bad to Heather I wouldn’t ask Dagur’s permission to do anything about it.”

“Did he do the same thing when you hit on Heather?” Fishlegs laughed awkwardly. Dagur being the overprotective type wouldn’t surprise him in the least.

“Nah, just you.”

Fishlegs remembered Snotlout’s poor grasp on reality with Heather that afternoon and laughed again. “Yeah right.” 

“No, really. It’s just you,” Snotlout said in a serious tone, giving him an equally serious look. It was such a contrast to his usual flippancy, Fishlegs didn’t think he was lying. 

Did Snotlout somehow get Dagur’s seal of approval, or did Dagur just not see him as a threat?

“Is that because you’re her friend?”

“I don’t know,” Snotlout shrugged, “I don’t remember him doing it to other guys. Heather’s a ‘takes care of herself’ kind of girl.”

On this, they agreed. Dagur had to know that, too. Fishlegs just didn’t think about whether he’d respect it or not.

“Why does he hate me then?” Fishlegs said to no one in particular. He lead Meatlug away from a mysterious pile of smelly goop and rounded another corner.

“Probably because you’re The Ex.”

“Heather and I are still friends though-” 

“Even though she dumped you-” 

“It was _mutual_ ,” he corrected sharply. 

“Ha!”

“ _Anyway_ , if we’re still friends it should be fine.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Snotlout said matter-of-factly, “He’s not going to trust you.” 

Meatlug stopped to sniff around a fire hydrant and the boys paused with her.

Fishlegs knew he would have gotten over it when he thought it was just ‘Dagur being Dagur’. Finding out it was a problem with _him_ made a world of difference.

“Does he think I’m going to ‘steal her back’ or something?” Fishlegs made air quotes as best as he could with a leash in his hand.

“Dagur-” Snotlout started to explain then stopped himself, “Ohhh no- if Heather’s not opening that can of worms, I’M not opening that can of worms.” Snotlout changed the subject before Fishlegs had time to process what he’d said, leaving an uneasy feeling in Fish’s stomach. 

Meatlug started walking again and Fishlegs kept his eyes on her while they talked.

“If you’re not gonna go for Heather, Hiccup’s your next best choice. You’re probably gonna fall in love anyway,” he said, which Fishlegs disregarded since they both knew Hiccup had a girlfriend.

“Ruff and Tuff might be your roommates, but trust me- been there, done that- neither are a good idea.” 

“You dated BOTH of them?” Fishlegs whipped his head around to look at him in shock, not sure if he should be impressed or scared.

“Pft, no. Dodged those bullets. Ruffnut’s hung up on this older guy, and Tuffnut’s so romantically illiterate we once had to explain marriage to him and it turned out he was already accidentally ordained. I’m 50% sure his toaster and refrigerator are legally married now.”

“How does that even happen?”

“You’ll never stop asking that with Tuffnut. Which is why you don’t go for him.”

“I don’t have to ‘go’ for anyone,” Fishlegs sighed, “Just because I’m not dating Heather doesn’t mean I’m looking for the next person to chase after.”

“Hey,” Snotlout stepped in front of him and put a hand on his chest, “I know what this is really about, and it’s totally normal. A lot of guys think they can’t compete with this-,” Snotlout gestured to himself, “- and you’re totally right. But just because you’ll get shot down doesn’t mean you shouldn’t hope. There’s plenty of people too intimidated by my perfection who would settle for a more average guy like you.” 

“When was the last time you had a date?”

 “I don’t have to answer that.” 

The boys circled back around the block. They continued talking and Snotlout absentmindedly followed when Fishlegs started walking Meatlug toward the back steps. 

“I have to get back to work now,” Fishlegs said, pausing at the bottom step, “You should probably go home.” 

Snotlout suddenly looked uncomfortable, making a bit of a face and avoiding eye contact. “Nah, I think I’ll keep walking. Who wants to be stuck at home on a Saturday night?” 

Snotlout didn’t seem like he was fishing for anything. He was trying to play it cool, Fishlegs guessed, but was a pretty transparent person as far as he knew him. Any coolness he was trying to put off right now was trying to hide the discomfort he had for whatever reason. It reminded Fishlegs of when he didn’t have Heather yet and never knew what to do with himself around other people. That was probably why Fishlegs found himself inviting Snotlout upstairs. 

“You hang out here without the twins all the time, right? It shouldn’t be a problem if you stick around for a couple hours until we’re done. If you want that is, you don’t have to,” he added quickly. Fishlegs didn’t actually know the rules for Snotlout coming over. Inviting him up when they hung out last night and barely knew each other might have been weird. When he saw Snotlout relax though, he didn’t feel weird about his invitation anymore. 

“Why not- nothing better to do. If you’re up for getting your butt kicked again I can play any game all night,” he bragged, as if he hadn’t lost all but once the night before.

Fishlegs unlocked the door. Snotlout and Meatlug went to their designated spots (the beanbag chair closest to the window and the spot on the floor next to it respectively) and settled in. 

“Don’t give Meatlug any people food, okay? Ruffnut already gave her burnt toast today, I don’t want her getting sick.”

“If your pizza didn’t make her sick, nothing will.”

“Ha ha.”

Fishlegs went down to finish his shift. When the twins came upstairs for the night they were confused to see Snotlout there, since both of them could have sworn they locked the door, but dropped it when Fishlegs came in and immediately joined Snotlout in his game, sparing everyone an hour of bickering about the lock. The twins joined them and they played/yelled obscenities at each other for the next two hours. 

After being blue-shelled by Ruffnut for the third time (and throwing a fit about it) Snotlout stood up and stretched. “Who needs you guys- I’m going to sleep in a real bed.” 

“Good night, Snotlout,” Fishlegs said. 

Snotlout wasn’t quite smiling when he said, “‘Night,” but Fishlegs thought it looked like he’d had a good time.

__________________

 

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” 

“I cannot believe you made this.” 

“It’s not as complicated as you’d think, but…” 

“It’s a leg!” 

“Not a human one.” 

Hiccup’s cat rested across his lap while he tried to sleep through the humans’ conversation. Hiccup stroked his inky black fur, but warned Fishlegs not to bother him too much while he was napping- something Fishlegs found hard to do once he found out the bright red back leg was _homemade_.

“How did you even do that?”

“My mom’s shelter has a clinic and my college has a 3D-printer. You’d be amazed what you can do these days. The vet at the clinic cleared my design, but she’s the one who actually gave him the leg,” Hiccup gestured to his own metal leg propped up on the couch, “Now we match!”

“Wow...” 

Hiccup was double majoring in engineering and animal science at the local college. Fishlegs asked him what that was like, which led to a lengthy discussion about his class project, which happened to be his own pet. Fishlegs leaned down in an attempt to get a better look at the leg without startling the little guy. It mostly worked- he let out just enough of a lazy snarl to show off the bare pink gums at the front of his mouth before closing his eyes again.

“Be nice, Toothless,” Hiccup said lightly. Toothless was disturbed a second later anyway when the sound of a skype call came from Hiccup’s laptop. Hiccup sat up and grabbed it off the table, gesturing for Fishlegs to sit next to him on the couch. Toothless moved himself to the chair where Fishlegs had been sitting as soon as he stood up to join Hiccup.

Hiccup adjusted the screen then clicked ‘answer’ on the call. The blurry image on the camera came into focus, showing a smiling blond girl wearing a grey hoodie with ‘USAFA’ across the front in blue lettering. 

“Hey, babe,” she said, tucking a loose strand of her braid behind her ear, “How’s my girl?” 

“She’s doing good,” Hiccup held up the laptop and turned it so the screen was facing the cage in the corner with the bathing cockatiel.

“Hi, Stormfly!” 

The little bird fluttered her wings a bit, then went back to bathing.

“You sure it’s okay to leave the cage open with Toothless?” Fishlegs asked for the second time since he got there.

“Don’t worry, Toothless and Stormfly get along strangely well. Even with all his teeth it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Who’s that?” Astrid asked. Hiccup turned the computer back to face them, making sure as much of Fishlegs was in the frame as possible.

“Astrid, this is Fishlegs- Fishlegs, Astrid.”

“Heather’s Fishlegs?”

“How many do you know?”

“It’s a pretty common name out here,” Astrid answered almost as smugly as Hiccup had asked, “Hi, Fishlegs.”

“Nice to meet you, Astrid,” Fishlegs said.

“Did I tell you he’s living with Ruffnut and Tuffnut?”

Astrid squinted, “Are his eyebrows still there?”

“They got rid of the flamethrower,” Hiccup assured her.

“I’m handling them,” Fishlegs said. They were weird, but they didn’t hassle him much more than their other friends. “Finding out they only had one spoon in their entire house was a bit of a rough start...”

“And the dead shark?” Astrid asked.

“Also a rough start.”

“Don’t you just miss all that at school?” joked Hiccup.

“Oh yeah,” said Astrid, leaning back in her chair, “If there’s anything the Air Force needs it’s a few more undisciplined schemes ending in small explosions.”

They all wished she were joking about the explosions.

“It could be worse,” said Hiccup, “Snotlout might’ve gone with you, remember?”

“Ugh. Thank goodness that didn’t pan out.” 

“He can’t be more destructive than the twins, can he?” Snotlout was kind of obnoxious there was still only _one_ of him.

“You didn’t spend most of your teenage years with him flirting with you,” Astrid said, aggravated at the memory alone.

“Ouch. Honestly, I’m surprised a guy like that works at a flower shop.”

“We didn’t think he’d go for it either. But military didn’t work- law enforcement was the next obvious choice and there’s no way he’d do that- so I guess his mom’s shop was it,” Hiccup said. 

Fishlegs briefly wondered why law enforcement wouldn’t be on the table, but the subject already changed to Astrid’s school schedule. 

“One more final,” she said, “Then leadership training, then my three weeks off in August.”

“You’re handling it pretty well,” Hiccup said, “Normally when finals aren’t done you’re…” He trailed off when he saw Astrid pick up a coffee mug and pour an energy drink and a diet Mountain Dew into it. “...That.” 

“I’m fine,” Astrid said, taking a sip and twitching a little, “My final isn’t for another thirty-nine hours and twenty-three minutes. As long as I hang up in under eleven minutes, I should even have time for a six minute shower.”

“Um, maybe you should go now so you can take a real shower,” Hiccup said.

“When I finish my coffee,” she promised, using the most liberal definition of ‘coffee’ possible.

Fishlegs was silently grateful he’d opted out of formal education past high school. Helistened to Hiccup and Astrid talk for a little longer. It made him a bit nostalgic. Was that how he used to look at Heather?

Astrid swore she’d get at least six hours of sleep and said goodnight to the boys plus Stormfly. 

“She won’t,” Hiccup said, “My guess is she’ll drive herself crazy glaring at her notes until she wears herself out for the night.” 

“Is she okay with school?”

"Oh yeah,” said Hiccup, “She just gets frustrated when she’s not doing perfectly and finals bring that up to eleven. Astrid’s always wanted to go to the Air Force Academy- she’s going to be a pilot or kill her exam proctor trying.”

“That’s so cool. I can’t believe you guys are doing all this stuff and can still make it work long distance.” 

“Well, it’s hard sometimes, but you know, it’s...” Hiccup said, slightly embarrassed when he remembered Heather and Fishlegs, “I’m just glad we’re both doing what we love, you know?” He paused, no embarrassment this time. Instead there was something wistful in the way he spoke. “We’re going to be like this for a while. Once she graduates, she’s going to get stationed overseas, and I’ll be working, or getting another degree, or both, and… I guess it’s something we’re going to have to get used to.”

Fishlegs’s heart went out to him. Part of him wanted to tell Hiccup he knew how he felt- the kind of hunger that came with the distance, feeling like part of you is stretched out across miles, not knowing when you’ll see your best friend again.

But they weren’t the same. Fishlegs could talk to Heather again, see her, hug her. Hiccup had years left of this. He struggled for words, knowing any reassurance about their relationship would sound hollow from someone who very much did not have a successful long-distance romance.

“Astrid seems really great,” he said, lamely. Hiccup smiled a little. “Yeah, she is.”

They moved back into their conversation about animal care, then one of them mentioned tabletop games, and that discussion took up the rest of their night. That was a lot easier to talk about.


End file.
